


Empty Sighs & Wine

by queen_tommo, sonya_deville, Zayns World (zistysfosgerald)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Bottom Niall, Gay Sex, It will hurt your feels, M/M, Sad Ending, Serious Injuries, Sexual Content, Top Zayn, Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-04-01 14:44:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4023820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_tommo/pseuds/queen_tommo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonya_deville/pseuds/sonya_deville, https://archiveofourown.org/users/zistysfosgerald/pseuds/Zayns%20World
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn, Niall, Liam, Harry, and Louis fight to stay alive against the flesh eating zombies that took over the world. Even with that going on, Zayn manages to fall for the unfortunately optimistic Niall Horan. Will they survive, or will their love affair cause them to get infected?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prey.

Two months in and the sound of gunshots still rattled Zayn to the core.

The firearm trembled in his hands, heavy and unfamiliar despite having been his closest companion since the hell settled in. He aimed it, holding his breath, eyes narrowed and locked on a monster that stumbled all too fast towards him. He winced when he pulled the trigger. Always did.

He hated guns, hated them for years, but it was all he had to defend himself against the world. He had to do what he had to do.

The bullet he shot hit the zombie dead between the eyes. Almost. A little too far to the left. He couldn't bare to look at it for long, just turned his head and walked away. Because it wasn't an it, it was a she. And she was young, maybe twelve, in a pretty pale sundress, soiled with blood and dirt. And he couldn't take it. What if that was one of his sisters? What had become of them? His parents?

Fuck.

Zayn had the tendency to speed walk. The faster he left those type of scenes behind, the better. He made quick steps through the desolate town, eyeing a Jeep momentarily before realizing the battery had been torn out. He just needed to leave, just needed to—

The border was blocked.

The town was cut off by more monsters, snarling and staring and sloppy. They all eyed Zayn, heard him from a mile away and he didn't know how, just knew he wasn't getting out of this unscathed. He held his breath, hoped that if he didn't come off as a threat, they would leave him alone and he could make it past without killing anything.

A pipe dream, but.

He lowered his head, held his gun tight, and took a few steps forward. Some of them pushed themselves up to their feet, bared their bloodstained teeth and widened their blank eyes. He glared at them, just needed to keep them at bay so he could get through and breathe a little better.

Zayn stared at the ground after what felt like an eternity, realizing that it would be better to not watch them as they did him. He murmured, "Please, please, please…" tensing his body. They were predators. He was prey.

He just needed to make it through.

Was there another way out of here?

Maybe.

But he had come too far to slow down or turn around.

They were already growling at him, some crouching further down with every shaky, scary breath Zayn dared to take. He knew one, at least one, was going to lunge, and maybe that would be the one to kill him, but he was going to hope that was his inner pessimist and not his inner fortune teller.

And one lunged.

It let out a horrid screech, one that threatened to burst Zayn's eardrums, and clung to his jacket, smearing the leather with something like blood, something like dirt. He jumped, swatted at it and aimed his gun. It was a domino effect. One comes. They all come.

Monsters leapt for him left and right.

Every pop and bang coming from the killer in his hands hit him deep, but it was either a gunshot or a bite.

He snapped, "Fuck off, fuck off!" trying to keep his façade strong. He was not scared. He was strong. He could kill all of them. He could forget that they were really people, they once lived, loved, and lost.

One of them got their hands around his throat and others, they crowded around, snarling, drooling, reaching for him. He was drowning in a sea of the undead, couldn't get up for air. The one that held him, they squeezed tight, nothing but animalistic instincts running through their head. They needed him dead so they could devour him. End of. He was their prey.

Others scratched at him, tried to slap his gun away. It went off twice, once on purpose and once by utter accident. One bullet hit a zombie in the leg, eliminating them from the fray. One bullet hit Zayn in the thigh, and he would be damned if it didn't kill him. He shouted out, fought harder to try and break away. He dropped the gun and pulled at the creature's hands, struggled to free himself. With too much effort and not enough breath, he escaped the hold, dizzy and disoriented.

Zayn stumbled back, scrambling for his gun, air rushing down into his lungs and nearly stunning him. The moment he reached his weapon, a monster got too close. He made the mistake of looking up and he saw braces, fuck, was this a kid, braces and they had an old wristband with superheroes painted on the rubber, fading away.

They stretched for him and he shot. He fucking shot. This-He-He shot them and they let out a wretched yell and hit the ground. He backed away, pain radiating up his leg. The whole left side of his body was on fire, driving him mad. Still, he had to run. He was going to have to shoot more if he didn—and one touched his wrist and he got trigger happy and shot them, too, square in the chest, was that the heart?

He held his breath until he broke away, running for it. It hurt to even move that goddamned leg, but he had to go. It was starting to pile up. He was killing. He was fucking killing. Killing creatures that were people once, so it counted, right?

Where were his sisters, where were his parents? Dead and gone or alive and well, he would never know, would he?

Zayn liked to think he made it far by the time he collapsed. He sat at the side of the road, blood trickling down his leg. His breathing was ragged and he prayed right then and there that he got far enough from the edge of town that the zombies gave up and decided to leave him be. He didn't hear any, but then, he couldn't hear much of anything. There was a ringing in his ears, strong and irksome.

He dragged himself to the edge of the road, rolled over in the grass. He left blood on the pavement and painted some of the green a dark, dreary red. His thigh throbbed. Could he die from a shot in the leg? Maybe, if he bled out or got infected or…

Zayn stared at the sky for what felt like an eternity. His mind spun as he thought about the last day he spent with his family. His mum and dad were busy teasing him about his plans to be an English teacher upon completing school, pinching his cheeks and poking him around. "How're you controlling a class, you can't even control your sisters?"

Waliyha and Safaa were going through the ‘too-cool-to-sympathize-with-their-brother’ phase, sitting in front of the telly and sticking their tongues out at him, giggling behind their hands. Doniya, the only one with any heart in that house, promised him he'd be fine and gave him some useful tips to surviving uni.

And then.

Gone.

He went off to school and everything went to shit and he hasn't seen them since.

Zayn felt the strongest urge to shed a tear, but he couldn't be bothered to let one fall. It was so much effort to cry, and the recovery period was just so lengthy. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything but the physical pain, burrowing himself deep in emotional pain, instead.

He blacked out reminiscing on the one and only time he tried to braid Doniya's hair.

| | |

Zayn woke up to someone lightly scrubbing his cheek.

It was a boy, blond hair fading to brown, face sprinkled with light freckles and smudged with dirt. His crystal blue eyes were narrowed in concentration. Zayn jerked lightly to let him know he was awake, instincts kicking in. He didn't feel his gun on him anymore. The guy had taken his gun.

"What—"

"We found ya on the road," murmured the artificial blond, revealing both a strong Irish accent and braces. Zayn could only imagine what a hassle those would be in the future if he didn't get them tightened or whatever braces needed to be. "Had a bullet in your leg. Bleedin' like mad. We got the bullet out, though, and Lou wrapped it up well, I think. His mum's a nurse, y'know? Wait. Of course not. You don't know us."

He stopped his incessant chatter to breathe and then.

"I'm Niall. I'm scrubbing dirt off your face."

Zayn frowned, propping himself up with his elbows. He didn't want to be sucked into a group. It would prove disastrous. There was no doubt in Zayn's dark, dark mind.

"Zayn," he said quietly, his leg giving him a signal to shut the hell up and lie back in the form of a shooting pain. "You could've left me."

"You'd be something's dinner, mate," Niall responded, finally leaving Zayn's face alone. He sat back, smiled a little and cracked his knuckles and kept moving for no damned reason. "Couldn't let that happen to ya."

"Why not?"

"Because, like, you're a fellow human. And we'd feel like shit if we just let you lie there and wait to be devoured. That'd be pretty awful."

"I could've dragged you down, um, Niall."

"Strength in numbers, Zayn."

And Zayn realized then, in that tent with the talkative and twitchy Niall, that this boy was probably there to stay.

Great.


	2. thank you.

Staring at Zayn, Niall waited for him to wake up. He wanted to make sure he was okay, especially since he looked bad.

"What are you doing, Niall? Let him rest." One of Niall's best friends, Harry said. He was the one who was in charge, but Niall wasn't going to listen this time around. All he cared about at that moment was Zayn, and his health.

Finally, what seemed like hours, Zayn woke up. He looked worried, but soon realized that Niall was there. Or that's what Niall thought.

"You're finally awake, sleepy-head." Niall stated the obvious, and Liam rolled his eyes at him.

"I've got to go," Zayn muttered, and that confused Niall.

"What do you mean by that? You're in no condition to fight off these monsters." Niall stated, but Zayn ignored him by struggling to get to his feet.

"I have to go. My sisters--" Niall cut him off.

"You can't possibly be serious? You're injured, and in no shape to be going out alone." Niall reminded Zayn, but Zayn shrugged what Niall said off.

Niall was worried about him, even though he had just met him. They saved his life, and Niall made it his duty to nurse him back to health. Or in this case, try to.

"But you don't understand, they need me, Niall." he said, but Niall shook his head.

"How about this: you get better, and I'm talking about a hundred percent better. All of us will take you halfway to your destination. Okay?" Niall asked, hoping that Zayn would agree.

"Fine, but I'm pretty sure I'm okay." he reassured Niall, but Niall wasn't having it.

"Okay, if you think so, go ahead and walk over to me. Come on," Niall taunted, but as he tried getting up, Niall could tell he was struggling.

"Okay, okay. You're right. I'm not a hundred percent healthy. But I really need to find my sisters, Niall." Zayn said, and Niall looked down at the ground. He was trying to not come in contact with Zayn's pleading eyes.

He just wanted to make sure that Zayn was going to be okay. It had looked like he sprained both his ankles, along with his wrist. It was safe to say that Niall wasn't going to leave Zayn's side until he was about to run. No matter what it took, or how long.

"Thank you." Zayn whispered, and Niall knew he was in a lot of pain. Niall nodded with a smile, and he hoped Zayn knew that he was going to save him no matter what it took.

"You're welcome, Zayn." Niall said, and Zayn started to tear up.

"Niall?" he called out, and Niall turned to face him.

"Yeah, Zayn?" Niall asked, and he wasn't ready for what was going to come out of his mouth.

"Do you think my sisters are okay?" Zayn asked, and Niall became speechless.

The truth was that he didn't know if they were okay, so he wasn't sure how he should answer Zayn's question.

"Honestly?" Niall asked, and Zayn nodded.

"Well, when we found you, you were all alone. Ready to become zombie food. We saved you and only you, but that was because there was nobody with you, or in sight." Niall explained, and he could tell Zayn was about to cry.

"How about we give each other promises? I mean, I know we just met each other, but I feel like we're friends." Niall admitted, which made Zayn smile up at him.

"Okay, what are these promises?" Zayn asked, and Niall gave him a smile.

"If you let us take care of you until you're a hundred percent healthy, we will help you find your sisters. Then, once you find them, we'll part ways. This may sound strange, but: I really want to know you're safe." Niall admitted, and Zayn smiled.

"Thank you, Niall. I really appreciate it." he thanked Niall as he reached to give him a hug.

Niall was about to leave the area in which Zayn was going to be sleeping, until he stopped him. "Niall?" he called out, and Niall turned around.

"Yes, Zayn?" Niall asked with a friendly smile on his face, and Zayn blushed.

"Would it be okay if... um... if you were to sleep next to me? It's just I can't sleep alone anymore." he blushed, but Niall smiled.

"Zayn, I'd be honored to sleep next to you," Niall smiled before pulling off his shirt.

He could feel Zayn staring at him as he changed into something more comfortable. Niall climbed in bed, and wrapped his arm around Zayn. His body was warm, and Niall liked that. He missed having someone to cuddle with, and so when Zayn asked, Niall couldn't say no.

Even though it was just platonic cuddling, Niall was enjoying it. Slowly drifting off to sleep, he began to dream.

++++

_He was alone, cold, and afraid. Looking around, Niall knew he was all alone. No friends, no family, nothing, no one. Standing on his two feet, he could start to hear voices. These voices sounded familiar to him, but couldn't quite tell how he knew the voice. But he definitely knew it from a mile away, or even further away. Shaking off the feeling, Niall looked around, and he was trying to get safety._

Waking up instantly, Niall sat up as quick as he could. Sweating and breathing heavily, he looked around to find the guys sleeping, including Zayn. Stirring, Zayn slowly opened his eyes.

"Why're you up so early?" he asked Niall, and Niall shrugged.

"Eh, I thought I heard something, so I quickly woke up," Niall lied, and it seemed like Zayn bought it.

"It's okay, just ho back to bed. Sleep is important, Niall." Zayn smiled as he turned to face Niall.

"Yeah, you're right. Well, goodnight, Zayn." Niall smiled before closing his eyes.

The truth was he had constant nightmares, and he didn't want Zayn to think he was a baby. He had to witness his mother and father being changed into flesh eating zombies. Forcing him to shoot them, along with his siblings. This left him alone and scared, but that all changed when he met the guys; they took him in.

Now, they had taken in Zayn, and Niall was glad.


	3. boys

It was midday and Niall was gone and Zayn was pushing his luck.

He was limping around the little makeshift campsite as best he could, trying to get used to the stabs of pain he would apparently need to endure if he wanted to walk. There was no time to sit around and whine over it. He was on a mission and there was only so much time before he had to chalk it up to loss.

"Shouldn't you be resting?"

Zayn honestly hadn't put any thought to meeting any of the other people in the group that Niall had alluded to. He didn't care to. Even Niall was a bit of an interference in his plans, but he was tolerable and had a rough night. A cuddle here or there wouldn't really be too much. It also wouldn't be often.

He looked up at the one addressing him, a curly-haired lad with happy eyes and a crooked smile. He pushed it again, "You should be lying down. Niall said there was something wrong with your leg?"

"I'm fine. Just wanna get moving."

Curly bounded up to him, long legs carrying him across the campsite in milliseconds. He took a hold of Zayn's arm and said, "I know. We don't really wanna sit around, either, but sometimes you've gotta stop and sit back or you're not gonna be much use. You can't go forever."

Zayn knew that he was probably right; he had been with a group for who knows how long. He would know more than Zayn how long people can go and when they should relax. He was around them. Zayn was not.

"I'm Harry," Curly — Harry — kept going. There didn't seem to be an end to his words, just an ever-flowing stream. "And you're Zayn, that's what Niall said."

"Is Niall the leader?"

Harry found that one a riot. He dropped Zayn's arm to laugh, a good one that seemed to shake him a little bit. He shook his head, apparently deciding Zayn didn't know better, he was new to the game.

"No, no. The leader position always looks up for grabs. It's a constant battle between Liam and Lou, the strongest and the oldest. But, um, the leader is me." He said it so quietly Zayn couldn't be positive he said it at all. He was the leader? He didn't look to be in the position to kill a butterfly.

Before it could be questioned, he motioned towards another set of tents, one across from the other. "That one," he points to the right, "is where Lou and I sleep. And that one," then to the left, "is where Liam and Niall usually sleep. Though, now that you're here, Niall might cozy up to you. He likes new faces."

Zayn can only shrug off the fact that Niall is probably all over him because he's just a new face. That was fine. He already thought the Irishman a nuisance, anyway. More chipper and talkative than even Harry. There was no place for that in a world like this.

"Maybe Lou's in. I know Liam went with Niall, so maybe..." Before he finished, he abandoned Zayn in favor of ripping open the tent, surprising whoever was inside. They let out a shout, an irate, "Harry!", and crawled out, anyway, but not without a slight scowl.

They looked to be anything but a threat. Small, curvy, and playing every part of a disgruntled kitten, Zayn couldn't quite see what the lad brought to the monster-fighting table. But, then again, there was Niall, even less scary. No one seemed to do much damage in the group. Everyone was soft. How did they survive?

"Zayn, Louis. Louis, Zayn!"

Louis grumbled a little something, but once he realized he was meeting a new face, he turned on his people personality and came up to Zayn with the most scrutinizing blue eyes. "Hello."

"Um. Hey."

Louis takes it upon himself to shake Zayn's hand, dropping it soon enough once something beyond Zayn catches his interest. "Oh, you're the lad Niall brought in," he said once he walks off, poking at an empty box close to the tent Zayn crawled out of. "You shouldn't be walking around, y'know. Should pro'lly have a seat. Take it easy."

"It's no fun that way," Zayn muttered, watching Louis' blank expression break into one of amusement, a smirk making its way across his face.

"A funny one. I like this one."

He started kicking the box around, balancing it on his foot before tossing it up and kicking it around a little more, like a football. He must have considered Harry's long legs a goal, because once the box hit him, Louis was thrusting a fist in the air.

"Excuse him," Harry sighed, sounding much like an overworked parent. "The lack of football in his life is slowly driving him insane."

"There's no lack, Hazza, everything's a ball if you have enough imagination."

He turned his gaze back to Zayn so suddenly he should have had some sort of whiplash. "You, are there any bandages I need to change?" He eyed the thigh with the bullet wound, taking no one's response — or lack thereof — into consideration. "Must've hurt a whole lot, being shot. You had a couple claws and scratches too. Must've stung, yeah?" he asked as he left the scene once more, wiggling his way into his tent and returning with a handful of bandages and alcohol, still with the price tag on the bottle. "Sit."

Zayn followed his command, figuring that he was the one Niall was blabbering on about when they first spoke. The one with the nurse for a mum, the one who patched him up before. He seemed too flighty to be much of a medic, but then, Zayn didn't feel too much in his leg anyway, not unless he pushed it, like he's been doing all afternoon. Whatever Louis did, apparently he did it well.

"S'gonna sting, mate, hold your teeth."

"How do I—fucking Christ!"

Harry cringed at the volume, but Louis just snickered and went in on the bandages. Zayn didn't even notice his old ones had been removed. He was a quick one.

"How the hell do I "hold my teeth," I don't…?" he muttered, feeling very much a child.

"In the time it takes you to think about how you'd do that, I've already done the thing that hurts." He shrugs and pulls the wrapping tight, his eyes narrowed. "Use it for all the lads, somehow it still works."

The moment Louis finished up, Niall returned, accompanied by a taller, fitter member of the team. That one must have been Liam. He appeared to be the only one that could really stand his ground in the group, with Harry a straggling second. He stood before Niall, who was dirty and exhausted and small, and said, "Town ahead of us has been completely wiped out. It's empty, and most of the resources have already been snatched."

"We got a couple things, though!" Niall chirped from behind, coming around with a strange array of things in his mud-stained hands. "Found a pot. And some other things."

"A pot," Harry murmured, stepping forth. His face no longer held the brightness Zayn had scrunched his nose at, but a look of authority. Perhaps that was how he got the position of leader. "Still acts as a weapon if we're on our last leg." He took it from Niall with ease, slender fingers curling around the handle and stealing it away. "You've got things in here."

"Oh! Yeah, just a few little ones. Like a little hunting knife, found it under someone's old jeep. Wires were shot but the knife's always good. And-and when Liam and I crawled through a petrol station I found a gun behind the counter."

"And you put it in the pot."

"Storage."

Harry nodded, set the pot on the ground at his heel. He had become a different person in just a couple of seconds. He turned his back on the other half of the group, nudging Louis and telling him to check them over for scratches and scrapes. In the blink of an eye, he was grinning again. Truly terrifying.

"You found noodles, too?" he asked, attracting Louis' attention. "I thought everything was cleaned out?"

"Well, yeah, but Niall kept digging through glass and shit. He found some things," Liam said, letting Louis look over his exposed arms. "Like pot noodles."

"A job well done, Nialler," muttered Louis, already reaching back for that alcohol bottle of his. Zayn, tired of standing around aimlessly, handed it to him and retreated back to the tent he slept it. He was truly useless until his leg was alright and they got moving. His sisters, his family, who knew where they were? Certainly not him. He'd already be at their side if he did.

"Hi, Zayn." Niall was crawling into the tent then, sitting on his knees and smiling all the while. "How's your leg?"

"Worthless as ever," he groaned, his head in his hands. "I'm fucking useless, Niall. I can't do a thing until I can move without cringing and my sisters are as good as dead."

"Hey, now, don't say that. Louis said your leg should feel a little better soon, so we can just get going. I'm sure…well. Um. It'll be alright, yeah?"

Zayn shrugged. "Sure." Things weren't going to be alright until he was well. He was dragging down a group of survivors, responsible for all of them instead of just himself and himself alone. Another con with working with others: one goes down, the rest can't help but follow.

And who had time for that?


End file.
